


The Continued Troubles Of MacAllan Point Bridge

by Falke



Category: Zootopia (2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Halloween, Minor Original Character(s), Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-09 08:26:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16446323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Falke/pseuds/Falke
Summary: There is a bridge that bears whole years of Harvest goods over the Silver River, from fields to the north to the train yard and loading docks in Bunnyburrow proper.It's probably not haunted.





	1. Chapter 1

Even after years of visits now, Nick was still fascinated with the layout of the Hopps Farm.

There was something about the juxtaposition of the old and the new - of worn front porch decking and the rattly screen door, and the dull shine of the freshly installed silos and automated conveyor poking up from behind the rise of the house. In the light spilling from the garage across the drive, the blue truck Judy had taught him to drive stick on was quietly rusting right next to the gleaming green hulk of the new Steere that Joe and the others were still busy tweaking before it entered service.

And Nick still wasn't used to being able to turn from the farm compound in front of him to the fields across the way, and see a vast sweep of golden wheat and cornstalks. Judy was right about that, at least. The city's parks were impressive, but they just couldn't compare. Not even when it was all closed in under the thick grey clouds like this.

The screen door behind him banged and Nick turned. It wasn't Judy out to meet him, but her sister Sharon.

"I thought you might be waiting out here," she said. "Any sign of them?"

"Not yet," Nick said. "How many trucks am I expecting?"

"I don't know, either," Sharon said. Her ears perked to catch the crunch of tires on gravel, and she smiled. "It depends on how many people Dad can manage to invite. But-" She pointed. "This time of year farmer's market usually means he comes back with some other farmers, too."

There were five of them, two pickups with extra riders in the beds and three big white and blue panel trucks with an unfamiliar logo on the side. They convoyed down the front path into the big gravel drive in front of the garage, and mammals started pouring out to swarm over the cargo.

Nick saw lots of mostly-familiar Hopps muzzles when they went to join the unloading, plus the ears of at least one other rabbit family. There were porcupines, badgers, voles, and a gaggle of ferrets working as loadmasters, waving and shouting as crates got unloaded. Nick was the only fox, since Callie and the others had taken another rain check on this year's invitation - but being the only fox had stopped mattering to any of them a long time ago.

Now, he was ready to pitch in, to help wrangle what turned out to be even more food. He hefted a crate full of red potatoes and looked to Sharon for direction.

"Food goes right to the kitchen," she said, around a double armful of cups and extra silverware. With no paws free, she tilted her head to point an ear. "No stops first unless it's a special case. We'll put it right to use, I'm sure."

He joined the line of mammals that was headed in the back way, nodded hello to Stu, who smiled as he went by, and ducked through the low door into the just-barely-cramped hallway, that seemed even closer and warmer now thanks to a thick winter coat. The happy chatter bounced around the ceiling and filled his ears.

Harvest was starting to feel familiar. The work of clearing fields and preparing foodstores for the year was exhausting, but it was a wholesome exhaustion that few other jobs had ever matched. And toward its end, it took on this party atmosphere. Everyone came together from all over the community to catch up and eat good food and explore the Hopps family's ever-popular corn maze. There were desserts and hot drinks and ghost stories.

And Nick was part of it now. Judy had smiled at him when he'd been the one to start talking about their plans first, this year.

She was here, of course. Nick dropped his food in the kitchen, where another group of willing paws set about preparing it right away, and went to see what she was up to.

Flannel and a puffy vest might as well have been a uniform, because Nick was running into it everywhere. Sharon had worn it, and half the rabbits here in the cozy den were wearing something like it, too. But none of them had ears quite like that. None of them tilted their heads at uncles spinning wild tales quite the way Judy did. Nick came right up behind her and made her jump when he put his paws on her shoulders.

He held a paw to his lips when she turned, and pointed her back to the couch where Gerry was holding court over a sea of little kits. They hung on his every word.

"...and that was where they found mama that night, standing with her paws in the shallows below the bridge like she had seen a ghost herself. And the wail she set up when they came to help her - the sheriff told me there's been nothing like it from mammal or anything else since."

"You didn't talk to Sheriff Dunwood," one of the kits piped up into the long silence. "He's _old_ now! Mom says he retired-"

"I did too!" Gerry laughed. "I'm older than I look, you know. And it all happened, too. You can read about it in the old papers. The stories said she went back every year, too, until one stormy midnight near Harvest she vanished without a trace, just like her kits."

They all stared, in wide-eyed silence, until one kit burst out:

_"But what about the bridge?"_

"Oh, it's still there. We take our wheat across it to the freightyard every Harvest-"

_"No!"_

_"They let you_ cross _it?"_

The kits babbled excitedly. One little one shrieked and hid her eyes against an older rabbit's ears. Gerry and the other adults laughed. And Judy turned up to grin at Nick.

"The ghost story of old mama Painter, and her lost kit," she said.

"Ah." Nick gave her a knowing look. "Very cheery. Kit-friendly."

Judy turned around in his paws, so the arguing kits wouldn't hear. "It's a tall tale," she whispered. "You know, the spirit of the season."

"Anything to keep them in bed at night, huh?" He had to grin. It sounded like the story of the Watchers at the edge of the fields he'd first heard here a few years back. That one was to spook the little ones into hiding out after dark instead of running around underfoot, and not at all based in inexplicably tangible shared hallucination.

"See? You feel it, too." Judy prodded his chest. "They won't get near the river, that's for sure. Besides." She indicated the group of adolescents near the back, the rabbits and porcupines and badgers who were all laughing together over something on someone's phone. Its tinny noise was almost lost in the chatter. "You grow out of it fast enough."

"Yeah, but it's a wonder you turned out so well-adjusted," Nick teased her.

"Hey, Jude, Nick-"

They turned as Sharon wove her way through the crowd.

"Mom wants to see you in the kitchen. Something about a special errand."

"Sure thing," Judy said. "Did she say-"

But that was as far as she got, because every rabbit in the room suddenly twitched their ears around and twisted to stare at the teenagers in the corner. They froze in the sudden silence, and one of the rabbits nudged his badger companion to put the phone away.

"You'd better hope mom doesn't hear you listening to that junk where little ears can hear," someone said. It was one of Judy's sisters, Nick assumed, and sounding downright sanctimonious. "Come on, take it outside."

One of the kits bounced in excitement and clapped her paws. "Ooh, Robert's in _troooouble_!"

There was a ripple of knowing laughter and the chatter resumed as if on cue. Ears across the room relaxed, Robert and his friends slunk for the hallway, and Judy caught her sister's eye and grinned at Nick's consternation.

'Those are the rules," she said, and beckoned him with her toward the kitchen. "Kits are enough of a pawful when they're not trying out filthy new lyrics, too."

\---

The Hopps farm had to import a surprising number of ingredients for carrot and dumpling soup. The carrots and celery were no problem, but the potatoes and flour for the rest came from all over the tri-burrows. As Stu supervised the unloading, Bonnie and a whole staff of kitchen helpers were assembling the ingredients to feed hundreds.

Nick followed Judy to the out-of-the-way corner where her mother was directing. Immediately Bonnie put them to work sorting a box of various spices that had come in off the truck.

"I should have stayed retired to the pie crusts," Bonnie said. She leaned back without looking and rescued a mug of cider from the counter, a bare instant before someone plonked down another box of flour and breadcrumbs. "There are fewer pieces to keep track of."

"I thought you were talking about this soup all month," Judy said. "I remember you kept making us all vote."

"And I'm not about to give up now, sweetheart, don't you worry," Bonnie assured her. She looked to be counting crates. "Did you find the oregano?"

Nick sniffed at the unmarked lid to make sure it was the right one, and passed it over. She beamed at him.

"We'll make a cook of you yet, Nicholas. Okay. All that's left is the white wine, then, and that's what I wanted to talk about. Can you go get it from the store?"

"Sure," Judy said. "How much do you need?"

"I only ordered the one bottle for a test batch, for now. Your aunts always want to make changes to the final recipe." Bonnie turned to wash her paws in the coppery sink. "Do you remember where The Grand is, Judy? I told Buck we might be back for more, and he said they'd have it ready for us."

Judy craned up at him to grin. "What do you say? Want to go for a walk?"

"Can you spare the paws for that long?" Nick asked. It would be a twenty-minute trip to Bunnyburrow's main street.

"Oh don't you worry about that," Bonnie assured him. Her eyes twinkled. "You and Judy have a special assignment now, so go on, shoo. And take some cider. Dinner for tonight will be ready when you get back."

\---

So they took one of the battered field thermoses and their scarves, and left the clamor of the driveway behind, where two of the trucks had already been emptied. Once again Nick was struck by the open space of it all. The burrow was always a press of mammals, but as soon as it was out of sight at the end of the gravel path, he and Judy might as well have been alone out here under the steely evening sky.

He snuck a glance at where Judy had her nose in the wind. He could see her breath.

"It's not going to rain, is it? Or snow? I can kind of smell it."

"I smell it, too," Judy said. "But this time of year it only ever threatens. It's good harvesting weather."

Good going-to-town-for-some-groceries weather, too. Nick took advantage of the quiet to get a little closer, so his tail would brush against her legs as they walked. The way she reached for his paw in response made him think she'd been planning the trip for this exact reason, too.

"What are you looking forward to most?" he asked.

Judy's smile got even warmer. She knew what he was talking about - the same thing they'd talked about for weeks before they'd come out. "You're going to make me choose?"

"Good answer." Nick tightened up his paw. "Okay, you can have two things."

Judy thought about it for a couple steps.

"The maze, of course," she said.

"Of course." That was one of Nick's favorite memories, too. The corn they were passing was a good head taller than even he was; and every year the Hopps farm held a field of it in reserve through the whole harvest, so they could carve a labyrinth into it.

The goal was to hunt down checkpoints along the way, but what Nick remembered most about the last visit was seeking out a string of the maze's dead ends where he and Judy could steal some moments that were for them and them alone.

"Oh, and the caramel apples," Judy said. "You weren't here for those last time, were you?"

Nick shook his head. He would have remembered that, too.

"I think the harvest was a little late," Judy said. "But didn't you put a couple loads of produce in the pantry earlier? It's overflowing with apples this time. I saw the crates stacked by the door. Lucy and her family make a whole batch just for dipping in the caramel, and they make that themselves, too."

Nick added it to the list. His only experience with that treat was the store-bought ones in the city, and he hadn't found them anything to write home about. But a version made by paw promised to be tastier - and more than that, the way Judy's eagerness bled through her recollection, it promised to be one of those things that made her eyes light up and her nose twitch with excitement. He loved seeing that.

And so he made a mental note to ask Sharon about it. She would be able to help him set up something special.

They made good time. Along the road, Judy pointed out old farmer Mathers' windmills, and the same creek that bordered the Hopps fields and here swung close to the path. They stopped for a cider break when the breeze picked up against their ears, and soon after they could see the traffic lights of the whole two intersections on main street.

This was a treat all itself. In Zootopia, the historic quarter tended to go all out with its Harvest theming. Bunnyburow's modest town center still reliably put it to shame.

Nick guessed it was because it started from someplace more authentic. They walked under giant oaks that were busy shedding their red and yellow leaves to eddy and swirl across the sidewalks. Front porches and curbside cafes were laced with actual candles and hay bales, where a scattering of mammals walked or clustered around tables with steaming drinks like theirs. The scent of fresh pumpkin and zucchini bread coming out of one of the shops was enough to make Nick turn his head. Judy giggled at his antics.

"We can get a pie to take back, if you want."

"I thought we were baking a bunch at home, too."

"I'm sure someone would eat it," Judy said.

They turned at the light, where the road was slightly narrower. Ahead, Nick could see a stripe of woodland start up where the river ran through, fronted with green space and a little park. The shops along the sidewalk were all local outfits.

"Here." Judy pulled him to a stop in front of one with an array of books and prepared treats in the windows, like a cross between a bookstore and a bakery. The sign over the top read The Grand Cafe, and there was a stool by the door that supported the lid of a carved pumpkin. Nick recognized it from having crafted one of his own, the years before. But the rest of it was missing.

"This is the place."

It wasn't quite the place Nick expected to sell esoteric cooking supplies. Inside, he found a cozy, narrow shop with wood floors, that smelled of roast coffee and old books. The largest bit of furniture was the mid-scale bar that ran the length of the left wall, where a whitetail deer was currently bent to something below the counter. Three tables and a collection of spindly chairs sat under artful lights in the center of the room. The entire wall opposite was a bookshelf, about three-quarters full with a vast array of titles and genres that Nick could see no organization to.

_"Oh!"_ The bartender straightened, with a tea towel clutched in her hooves. "Hello there! Welcome to the Grand. I'm Margaret, the owner."

"Judy Hopps." She stepped forward. "And this is my partner, Nick. We're here to pick up some cooking wine."

"Oh, that's right. We got your call about an hour ago." Margaret came around the bar and beckoned them closer. She had a broad grin, for Judy and for Nick. "You're just in time. Buck's sorting out the last shipment for the night right now. How's the family?"

Judy appeared flat-footed for a moment at the sudden question. Then she clapped her paws.

"Margaret Seneca."

"From Tri-Burrows High, yes." Margaret smiled even wider and nodded. "I haven't seen you since senior service day. How's life treating you? You finally ran off to the city, right?"

Judy laughed. "That's right. Nick and I are officers on ZPD."

"Well, congratulations. And happy Harvest, to both of you. You can't pick a better place to spend it." She bobbed her head at Nick, and he guessed she had him pegged as a city fox. "How does it compare?"

"I didn't know what I was missing until a couple years ago," Nick admitted. Her enthusiasm was genuine, and a bit infectious. "It's been getting better ever since."

"As it should," Margaret said. "Judy's family wins all those cooking competitions for a reason."

"How long have you been open here?" Judy asked. "I remember now, you talked about a store like this all the time back in junior leader camp."

Junior leader camp. How very Judy. Nick hid his grin.

"Six months now," Margaret said. She waved a proud hoof to take in the shop. "Coffee, pastries, used books, and special culinary orders. I got lucky that niche survived long enough to finish the renovations." She turned to call into the back of the shop. "Buck? _Buck!_ Do you have that wine yet? Judy Hopps is here to collect."

The door to what Nick's nose identified as a kitchen swung open ahead of a portly old black bear in a canvas apron.

"Relax, I had paws on it when I was still on the phone. It's right here." He had a slender paper bag. "Evening, friends. Doing some cooking tonight?"

"You know Harvest," Judy said.

"Indeed I do." The flecks of grey fur on Buck's muzzle crinkled in a smile. He flourished the little bag. "Seems everyone in town is making something special. But don't you worry - I've got a whole case of this stuff ready to go if you need it, since I hear you might come back for a full order."

"Thanks very much."

"I'll get you set to go," Margaret said. "It should be pretty quick - your family already has an account set up. Over here."

She ushered them to the little register and tapped a few buttons on the tablet. It pinged.

"And that's it! I can walk with you to your car, if you like. I need to lock up."

"We actually walked into town," Nick said.

"Well then you'd better get back," Margaret said. "Like you said, it's Harvest. The hooligans start causing mischief as soon as the sun starts to set."

"Oh no," Judy laughed. "You get those here, too?"

"Nothing major," Margaret assured them. They like to string toilet paper on the awnings. You know how it is."

"Sure, but I'm the one cleaning it off, and my back's not getting any younger," Buck put in, where he was trundling around behind them turning up chairs so he could sweep. He shook his muzzle. "And our prize pumpkin wound up smashed yesterday. I hadn't even carved it yet."

Now Judy's ears fell and her smile disappeared. Nick, too, felt a familiar reluctance in his chest.

This time of year ZPD spent a lot of time warning young revelers not to get too carried away with their shenanigans. It was true that tricks went paw in paw with treats - but he'd also given his fair share of mammals a stern talking-to about how easily that could become vandalism, or worse.

They weren't supposed to have to worry about that out here, while they were on this little Harvest vacation. But now he was thinking of the jack-o-lanterns he and Judy had carved themselves, and of how despondent she would be if someone had smashed all their hard work.

It would be about like the look on her face now, he judged.

"I'm so sorry, Margaret," Judy said. "Did you get them to stop?"

"Well, we'd have to find them first," the deer said. She was looking between them, clearly picking up on their distress. "It's getting dark early, and whoever it is doesn't stick around..."

"Can you tell us more about what you've seen?"

They all looked over at Nick - with surprise, and in Judy's case, no small measure of guilt - but it was out there now. He put a reassuring paw on her shoulder. "I think we might be able to help."

"But you're off work!" Margaret objected. She waved her hooves. "No, I couldn't impose on you like that-"

"No, Nick's right." The guilt was still there, but now Judy had a private smile for him, too. "And he knows I'll bug him all night about it otherwise. It's all right, Margaret. You'd better tell us what happened."

Buck undid some of his work, so they would be able to sit more comfortably around one of the tables. He disappeared into the kitchen again, and Margaret sat to recount her story.

"It was after closing time. Our server Lori had left for the night, and I was helping Buck with cleanup in the kitchen. There was a noise from the front that I thought might have been someone knocking at the front door - we get mammals in at all hours, and I'll usually open up for them when I can help them quickly." She tilted her head up at the brass bell over the entrance. "But when Buck went to answer there was no one there."

"No mammals, anyway." Buck came back with a round of steaming house mugs in his paws - more cider, Nick identified it, spiced and smooth. "All I saw was the tissue hanging from the umbrellas. And the big pumpkin we'd brought in on Thursday from the Griffiths, of course. It was square in the middle of the patio lights, only someone took a big rock to it and bashed one side in."

"Oh, no," Judy muttered.

"You still have the rest of the pumpkin?" Nick asked. It was a long shot. "Or the rock?"

"The rock, sure. It's out front under the chair. I think it might have come from the river. One side of it's all water-worn."

Judy was scribbling in the little notebook she'd pulled from a vest pocket, as seriously as she might for any official case they took on the clock. "And there wasn't anyone nearby?"

"Like Margaret said, it was after closing." Buck turned a chair around and sat with a thump so he could rest his arms on the tiny seatback. He considered. "I didn't see many mammals on the street that time of night. The closest I can remember was there were three, maybe four, on their way down by the park."

"Any descriptions?"

"A couple rabbits, I think, with light ears," Buck said. "And a larger mammal. But I can't be more sure than that. My eyesight ain't what it used to be, when it gets that dark out."

Now Margaret looked a bit uneasy. Her eyes were wide. "You won't- I mean, You're not going to arrest anyone for this, will you? It's really not a big deal."

"We're not going after criminals here," Nick pointed out.

"We don't think," Judy amended. She'd turned one ear to him - they were on the same track, following investigator's intuition. Now she tried to soften it, too. "It's probably just kits causing trouble."

Nick nodded. "And we've got plenty of practice showing them the line they need to stay on one side of. No need to make anything official."

"How about this?" Judy closed her notebook and tucked it away. "We'll let you know if we find anything. If you want, you can decide how you want to deal with it."

"That's probably the best way," Margaret agreed, and she seemed to relax. "Thank you, Judy. I think you're right, if it's just kits. I'd hate to ruin their Harvest over something like this."


	2. Chapter 2

The wind was picking up when they pushed back through the front door and bade Margaret good night. It was enough that Nick could feel it nipping even through his thicker coat now. But there was, in Judy's estimation, just enough light left to at least follow up on their first lead. She scribbled a dutiful description of the rock on the patio while he tucked their bottle of wine in his backpack, and then they padded the rest of the way down the street toward the park.

"Just as well nobody needs this for cooking until later tomorrow," Nick said.

"This won't take long," Judy flickered amusement, even as her eyes and ears were on the play structures in the center of the little sod field. "I don't think anyone would stick around now that it's getting cold, but maybe we'll get lucky."

As far as Nick could tell with his night vision, there was nobody here - not on the swings or the clamber-bars, or under the picnic awning, or in the treeline where the light had started to fade completely. "Any idea what we're looking for?"

"No, this is all new," Judy said. "I remember the old slides were rusty metal, not plastic. But a park is a park, right? I can't have been the last one to hang out here as a kit."

Maybe it was because Nick only had the hazy memories of heavily-used parks near Happytown to go on, but this one was so well kept that it was almost seemed _off_. The grass was still lush and green under their paws. The swings had a rubberized coating on their chains so they didn't squeak or pinch. And there wasn't a single wood chip of padding out of place under the slide. He pointed it out.

"Do they rake it, or something?"

"Probably," Judy said. "It's an adopt-a-spot; I saw the sign over by the picnic table."

They'd worked their way all the way to the trees by the river before Nick saw it: a conspicuous stripe of soft white paper, fluttering in the breeze where it was wrapped over the branches and the split fencing that marked the boundary between manicured lawn and riverfront scrub oak. It was like an inadvertent flag, hanging right next to a designed break in the fence where a dirt path led off the grass and into the dark between the trees.

"They would be cleaning up trash, too, right?"

Judy sighed, halfway between satisfaction at the development and sadness at the littering. "Yeah, they would. Looks like someone was practicing their aim, huh?"

It was definitely TP, and new. The wind hadn't had time to tatter it up, or blow rain on it. Nick reached up on tiptoe so he could unhook it and bundle it up. Yes, it was technically evidence, but this wasn't the sort of case where they needed to leave litter hanging around.

"This path goes down to the river," Judy said. She was already trying to see deeper into the trees. Her nose was twitching.

"Can you see anything?"

She reached into her other vest pocket and drew out her flashlight, the special orange one he'd gotten her. She clicked it on and grinned when it lit up his expression.

"What?"

"I thought we were on vacation, is all," Nick teased her, even though he knew he shouldn't have been surprised. "Did you just put your whole service belt in your pockets?"

"They're big enough." She beckoned with the light. "And it's a good thing I did now, isn't it? After Hayley got lost, I haven't gone anywhere without it."

"Touche." Nick stepped up so he could get a paw around her shoulders and draw her closer. He remembered that scramble through the corn, too - like an unintentional maze with a lot more at stake. And now this felt the same. If they were going to explore the woods in the dark, he planned to keep her nice and safe.

Because now it really was dark. The branches might have been scraggly and bare in places already, but they were still thick enough to start blocking out what little remained of the sunset. It was just a distant orange smear on the horizon, underneath even the low clouds.

Presently Nick smelled the unmistakable combination of fresh moving water and muddy riverbank, and heard the muffled rush of the creek over the rocks. Something deep in the trees gave a low, fluting call. Judy twitched her ears against him.

"Probably just a bird," he reassured her. Though what bird would make a noise like that, he had no idea.

The path widened into a junction. Judy played her light around and caught the rutted tracks of the dirt road that came in from the direction of town behind them.

"Do they really use this to get around?" Nick asked. "For moving crops and things? Seems like it would do a number on wheels."

"You've seen farm trucks," Judy said. "They can take a few bumps."

She stopped her scan, when her light lit up a cluster of little white scraps at the edge of the footpath.

They were waxed wrappers, like what might have gone around candies. Nick confirmed it with a sniff, when Judy bent to collect one and pass it up to him. Definitely sugar, and probably recent. There were blue stripes on the ends of each one, where they'd once been twisted closed.

 _"Ten, eleven, twelve..."_ Judy's paw thumped in the dirt. "This can't be an accident. They teach us not to litter in grade school, and then all my aunts and uncles drilled it into me and my siblings again. Someone must not have gotten the same message."

Even with his earlier reluctance, Nick was privately enjoying the enthusiasm. Judy got into the hunt, as much as any predator. And the slight nerves she showed for being here in the dark were fading away under this new progress. He followed her down and around the bend, eyes alert on the edges of the road for more signs of recent passage.

They were so focused on their sweep they almost missed the bridge at first. But they both stopped, when Judy's light flashed across its imposing bulk.

It crouched, as tall as some of the oaks, at the end of the road where it dropped off to rocks and the rushing water below. It was a huge wooden structure, easily as big as any one of the barns on the farm. It looked like a barn, too, with fading red-brown paint and white trim on the crossbars.

But Nick couldn't make out the other end. The bridge was too long and too dark; it curved out of sight into a cavelike blackness that neither her light nor his night vision could penetrate all the way. It was as if the road just ended, deep in what looked uncomfortably like a yawning mouth.

And there was something familiar about it, nagging in the back of Nick's mind.

"This is from the story, isn't it?" he asked. "The one your uncle Gerry was talking about?"

"It looks like it," Judy said. "I don't think there are any other bridges this big on this arm of the river."

As if on cue, something down there groaned and settled in the breeze. Nick heard timbers the size of whole treetrunks creaking, even over the sound of the water. Leaves rustled near the entrance and vanished when they crossed into the dark.

It made Judy bristle next to him, though whether it was with cold or nerves or giddy curiosity, Nick couldn't tell. He followed her closer, their search for evidence briefly forgotten.

"MacAllan Point Bridge," she read off the fading sign over the entrance archway. "I think that might be for Mayor MacAllan. This thing is older than my grandparents. It might have been here when they founded Bunnyburrow."

"And how did that story go?" Nick asked. He could hear his voice echo faintly from the crossbeams and joists. It smelled damp. "Someone fell through it, right?"

"It's better kept now," she said, but he noticed that she hadn't put a paw on the floorboards, either. "They use it to get crops to the train station, remember?"

"Not at night, I'll bet." Nick turned to grin at her, right as the wind picked up.

They could hear it coming, in the trees on the far side of the creek, It whistled around the eaves of the roof and blew straight down the tunnel. For such a massive bridge, Nick thought as the leaves around their paws reversed course and blew back out into the road, it sure rattled and moaned a lot.

Okay, _that_ shiver was a spooked bunny. Nick wrapped a freshly fluffed-out tail around her. "I don't see anyone down here, do you?"

"No."

"We should probably get back, then." He turned them around, and couldn't help but wonder just what he was leaving at their back. "Dinner's waiting, right? And we'll try again when it's not as ominous."

Judy giggled - but she was pressed close against him, too. That suited Nick just fine.

\---

It wasn't possible to be late for a Hopps dinner, at least. There were so many family members and friends in the burrow now that the already-informal mealtimes stretched for hours. Judy was able to swing Nick's status as a guest to reserve them some prime space at the end of the long main table, while he went to the hearth to get them their bowls of pot pie. He spent extra time to make sure he got plenty of extra flaky crust.

When he brought their food back, Judy was already deep in conversation with one of the rabbits across the table from her. It still took Nick a minute to put the face and the name together. This was Tammy, he was pretty sure, one of Judy's sisters and about her age - and whatever Judy had said was making her scowl.

"There can't really be truth to the old stories about it being dangerous," Judy said. "Nick and I were down there just tonight. It's dark, and windy and it sounds scary, but it's not about to fall over."

"Close enough," Tammy countered. She glanced up as Nick slid into the seat, and her demeanor softened just a bit. "Didn't you see the signs? The city won't let the farm trucks over it because the whole middle is starting to give out."

Judy frowned up at Nick. "Really? I didn't see any signs, no."

"Maybe the wind got them," Nick said.

"Talk to Louis and the rest, from across town," Tammy said. "It's all they've talked about since they got here, having to go the long way to get their loads to the dock." She dug sourly at her dinner. "Auburn heard them, you know."

Nick racked his brain, until Sharon noticed and took pity on him. "Our little sister," she said. "About Winter's age."

"Ah."

"Now all she wants to do is see it for herself," Tammy said. "I practically had to drag her home after we finished with the mail. She wanted to stay with Robert and his posse."

"You could have let her," Judy pointed out. "She's old enough. Mom let us stay out late as long as we had buddies at that age."

"Not around broken-down bridges," Tammy countered. "Besides, Robert doesn't want to babysit, and I'm not sure I'd trust him to."

"Okay, fair." Judy tapped her spoon between thoughtful teeth and regarded him. "We should probably check with City Hall about that tomorrow, then, when we go back."

"It's a date," Nick said, and smirked right back at her. He meant it.

\---

When they had eaten and washed their dishes, it was almost eleven. Nick shut the door to their tiny shared room and yawned wide.

Judy, who had been frowning at something in her notebook, looked guilty. She put it down on the edge of the bed when he approached.

"Nice work today," he told her.

"I'm done for now," she said, and tilted her head so Nick's claws would have better access to tired muscles. "It kind of took over. Sorry about dinner."

"Hey, I'm having fun," Nick said. He watched her closely. "It's for a good cause, and nobody's getting hurt. And I'm learning about your family's fixation on spooky stories."

"I don't think Tammy likes that part," Judy admitted. Her smile quirked back onto her muzzle, just for a moment. "But she says she's never seen any Watchers, either."

"Oh, I see." Nick tipped her against him so he could nose at her ears properly. They were always tense after long days like this. "Maybe not everyone's that lucky."

"I only brought it up because she's been down in town all weekend. I thought maybe she might have heard something about mischief." Judy gathered his tail into her lap with both paws and sighed. "That's me, though, isn't it? Even with something harmless and fun like this I can't turn it off."

"I think that just means you're in the right line of work," Nick said. Some things never changed, whether they were chasing local pranksters or drug dealers. Judy's drive to do the right thing never faltered. He felt so lucky for that. "Because you and I both know that harmless doesn't always stay harmless. Especially if this bridge is as dangerous as they say it is now."

"I hope it _does_ stay harmless." Judy sounded like she was admitting some embarrassing secret. "Just this once."

'We can pick it up in the morning, if it helps," Nick said. He pushed closer. "I won't tell anyone."

That got her to shiver again, either with the chill or because of his careful paws. He wrapped closer around her to address it, whatever it was, and was content.

They would do what they had to, if they had to. Until then, they had right now, with thick blankets and paws sneaking under pajamas and the whistle of the night wind past the window.


	3. Chapter 3

The mornings called for something a little stronger than cider, not least because they started in earnest before the sun even thought about rising. Nick lay in bed and waited for Judy to bring it back to them. He wasn't ready to plunge into the activity out there. It sounded loud, in just the few moments that Judy slipped back through the door.

"Dad's got work for us, if we want it," she said. "Before we go into town this afternoon."

"Mm?" Nick followed his nose to the mug she held out and took it in both paws. Just the steam was starting to wake him up.

We can either load the trucks to take stuff back to market, or we can help stage the raw corn that comes in, before clients start to pick it up in a few days."

"Corn sounds more Harvest-y," Nick said. That was how he remembered whiling away the hours, too. It wouldn't be a Harvest visit to the farm unless they were in the fields at some point.

After they had dressed and found some breakfast, they were out on the main road into the fields, where the little farm trucks were already rolling in with trailers full of corn - kernels in bins, shucked ears and whole stalks ready for baling and storage. They posted up at the start of the assembly line with a paw truck, where Nick would be able to put his longer arms to best use. It was good hard work - corn was heavier than it looked.

But like everything else Nick learned to do out here on the farm, the exercise was rewarding like nothing else, and as pretty as any postcard. The rising sun caught their breath misting in the air and twinkled off the cold dew that gathered on the cornstalks in the closest fields. The low fog scuttled away as the heat came on, but it seemed especially reluctant to give up its hold on the pumpkin patch across the way. A gaggle of kits in full Harvest excitement mode chased each other around the big orange squash, waving trowels and little paw rakes where they were helping clean up weeds.

And Nick indulged in the quiet moments of waiting, when Judy sat on the top of the split-rail fence, paws swinging in midair, and chatted with her siblings while they waited for the next delivery to arrive. He knew she was grateful for the distraction, too. This job was honest and straightforward. There was none of the abstraction or uncertainty that she'd seemed to wrestle with the night before.

So it was a bit of a jarring surprise when it came back to remind them, just before lunch.

They had detoured to the garage to collect more baling tools from storage next door. Nick was dodging around the bustle of mammals around the big tractors when he saw badger, a family friend, wander by with a big cellophane bag full of familiar wrappers.

He turned to get a second look, to make sure he wasn't seeing things. No, those were definitely the same blue stripe patterns they'd seen littered around the riverside the night before. He juggled the twine and ties in his paws so he could nudge Judy and point them out.

"I'm not going crazy, am I?"

Judy tilted her head, and for a moment was still except for her twitching nose. Then she reached down to pull her notebook out of her pocket and trotted over to catch up. Nick followed.

"Hey, Marty!"

He was vaguely familiar when he turned around; Nick expected he'd been seated nearby at one of the tables the last couple of nights. When he saw who it was he smiled. "Not Judy Hopps, is it? Happy Harvest!"

"You, too," Judy said. She pointed with the pen that had appeared in her paw. "You remember my partner Nick? We were back last year for the talent show."

"Oh, sure." He proffered a paw for shaking. "How are things? Enjoying the farm work?"

"Always do," Nick said. His grip was strong; clearly he was a farmer like the rest of them.

"We're trying to solve a little mystery," Judy said. She indicated the bag in his paw with her pen. "We saw some wrappers like that yesterday down by the MacAllan Bridge. Did you get them from somewhere around here?"

"Oh, sure. I bought 'em from Ray's in town the other day just for the party here." He held them up so they could see. "Got to have something to pass out to the trick-or-treaters, right? Here, try one. It's the best taffy I've ever found, in this county or any other."

Nick had to decouple the treat in his paw from the reflex to be careful with evidence. This wasn't a lead to be chased, at least not just now. Right now it was just saltwater taffy with a rich vanilla flavor, melting on his tongue. He nodded. "Not bad at all."

"If you don't mind my asking, what mystery is it a part of now?"

Nick, with his mouthful of chewy candy, decided not to mumble an explanation around it. Judy took over again.

"All we know for sure so far is that someone might have been down there with candy like this last night, or maybe the night before."

Marty shook his striped muzzle at the bag he held, like he was trying to get a sense for how much candy they were talking about. "Haven't been down there for about a week," he said. "Ever since the council sent out mail about being careful on the span. We just go around. And I'm afraid I've been passing these out to everyone I can." He grinned. "Still, I can ask my Michelle if she's been down there, or Harvey. They ran off to town with their friends just about as soon as we got in."

"Your kits?" Nick asked.

"Not kits for much longer, but yeah." Marty nodded. He looked between them. "Now they're not in any trouble I should know about."

"No, Sir." Nick shook his own head no. "Nobody's in any trouble yet."

"Right now we're still just trying to figure out who was where, and when," Judy said.

"Well, that's good." Marty brightened and his ears came forward again. "If I can help, you just come find me."

"I think you already have," Judy said. Her notebook - and the candy she'd accepted - vanished. "Thanks for the lead."

They wove their way back out into the thin autumn sunlight. Judy took the lead across the drive toward the house and held the door for him, and smiled in that simultaneously eager and apologetic way that meant she was anxious to make some progress.

"Early lunch?" Nick guessed. He didn't know what there was to apologize for.

"And then we can take the truck to get the wine now," Judy said. "I told Joe to make sure it was ready this morning. Is that okay?"

"Well..." Nick tapped a claw to his chin and played it up. "I suppose. An afternoon drive is not, strictly speaking, as romantic as an evening one. But I'll live."

That got her smile to blossom properly. "We can go slow on the way back."

\---

Parking in the town center was a bit of a trick. This close to Harvest, travel was really starting to pick up, and every spot on the road in front of The Grand was taken. They wound up perching on the shoulder all the way out by the post office.

It worked out fine, though, because their route took them straight past Ray's Confectionery and Ice Cream. The ice cream part wasn't all that popular this time of year, but Ray - who was an old hare in an extremely turquoise apron - also looked to sell all manner of candy, cookies, jams and preserves, and candied nuts. Nick could smell the sugar in the air, so thick it was almost cloying.

The whole front of the shop in the window was a row of rustic bins, full of brightly colored bulk and individually wrapped candy. Judy went straight to the whirring taffy machine in the corner, perched next to piles of candy with the now-familiar striped wrappers.

Nick let her go. It was an investigator's reaction, splitting up to cover more ground and look for clues. He didn't expect to find anything incriminating amid the giant novelty lollipops or bags of honey-roasted walnuts, but it did bring him to the other side of the store, over by Ray's counter. As long as she was busy...

"What kind of caramel do you sell here, sir?"

Ray leaned on the low counter. "Sorry, son, what? You said caramel?"

"Easy, _shhh_." Nick waved his paw and held a finger to his lips. But Judy's ears seemed to be safely on her work. He pointed. "It's a surprise."

_"Oh!"_ Ray looked around, like he was expecting to see another fox, or some other predator who had come in with Nick. There weren't any, as far as Nick could see, but Ray lowered his voice before he went on anyway. "A surprise, you say. Well, let's see. Caramel, that's in demand this time of year - caramel apples, and all."

Nick nodded along. "Do you have just the caramel part?"

"I'll check, but-" He pointed a paw to a stylized barrel on the table behind them. It was conspicuously empty. "If it ain't there I might be fresh out until next week."

"Oh."

He tapped a claw on the laminate. "But if it's for apples, you can try some of this butterscotch here, and more cream and sugar. Might have to get the right heat to melt it down, though. You have a gas stove? And a thin pan? Real thin, almost like a wok. You'd need to get it real hot."

Nick thought of the vast Hopps kitchen, and nodded. If such a pan existed, he was sure he would be able to find it there. "That I do."

He had just enough time to complete his purchase and stow the little bag of golden brown candies in on of his big pockets before Judy came back, with a trio of wrapped taffies in her paw.

"Did you find everything all right, Ma'am?" Ray asked.

"I did, thanks," Judy said, in a voice that suggested to Nick that everything was not, in fact, all right. "And I had a question about these candies." She rotated an ear toward him. "We found some of them last night, down by the river. Do you remember who you might have sold them to yesterday?"

Ray did squint at the wrappers, but it was to shake his head sadly. "That's a lot of mammals, Miss Hopps. That taffy is my best seller."

"I see," Judy said. "And probably mostly kits, right?"

"Even this close to Harvest trick-or-treating, sure enough." Ray chuckled. "But... there was the badger, of course. A whole family of them, who bought a good five pounds all at once. Said they were planning for plenty of little visitors at the door."

It sounded like Marty and his family, which meant it probably wasn't enough to add to the list as evidence. Judy would be thinking the same thing. Nick could see her notebook in her other paw.

"We'll have to keep looking, then," she said, and forced a smile. "Thanks, Ray."

"You don't want to take those with you?" he asked. "Go on, miss Hopps. It's on the house!"

But when they pushed out the front door, Judy appeared too distracted to unwrap them. Nick had to keep up as she padded ahead down the sidewalk, her paws going so fast that she kicked the fallen leaves out of the way.

When Nick guessed that they were far enough away from the other mammals wandering the main street, she turned to look up at him while they walked. "There was a flyer on the bulletin board in there. The bridge really is off limits because of damage."

"Uh oh," Nick said.

"And I heard something else." Her ears fell. "The old pig in there who works on the landscaping was talking about more toilet paperings." She waved her notebook down the street. "He told me someone draped the hardware store last night."

"We were down here last night," Nick said, as he put the rest of the pieces in place. They'd driven past the store on their way out of town. It had been closed and darkened for the night - and free of any papery shenanigans. "And the hardware store is down by the bridge."

"Right, so we missed it. And now this with the candy wrappers." Judy chewed her lip. "We're on track, I know it, but we're still not in the right place to see it happen."

"Well, do you want to go talk to the Sheriff?" Nick asked. "Someone might have said something already."

"I think maybe we should, yeah. Even if it's just to confirm. Whoever this is, we know where they are, and the places they're likely to try to hit." They were coming up on the Grand now. Judy paused outside the door and regarded the obvious empty spot that was supposed to make up the centerpiece of the decorations on the little curbside. "And now we know they'll probably be back late, after they think everyone else is asleep for the night."

"Stakeout?" Nick guessed. Seeing the cause of all their work seemed to be motivating her all over again.

"Nobody else is going to need the truck tonight," she pointed out, and pulled the door open for him. "We'll wait until after dinner."

Margaret was on a stepstool over by the giant bookcase, stacking new titles on a shelf from a big cardboard box. When she saw who it was, she dropped the books back into the box with a dusty thump and came down to greet them.

"Welcome back, Judy! And you, too, Nick. Are you here to collect your order? Buck has it all ready for you."

The bear looked over, from where he was tending bar, and excused himself to the pair of rabbits in the tall chairs. He disappeared into the kitchen.

While they waited, They gave an abbreviated rundown of what they'd found so far, chasing their pumpkin perpetrators. Margaret's big ears fell as she listened to how they'd followed the trail of drapings and candy wrappers to an apparent dead end.

"The staff there said he sold too many to help us narrow it down," Nick said.

"So they're still out there somewhere," Judy finished. "And still at it. I heard from Mr. Willis, who does the county landscaping for the post office and the town hall. He said somebody covered the hardware store in paper sometime late last night."

"Oh that's such a shame. The McAlesters must have been up so early taking it down, because it was clear when I came to open up this morning." Margaret sighed and turned to clear the sugar and creamer off the bar next to them, so Buck could set down the stack of wooden crates he had in his arms. "I'm sorry it's turning into such a wild chase, Judy."

"It's not your fault," Judy said.

Buck had a sympathetic grimace for his co-worker. "Not yours either, though," he rumbled. "Kits are going to be kits, can't stop all of that. They'll grow out of it eventually."

"My family never had any trouble," Judy said. She was almost indignant, and now she sighed when they looked at her. "I just wish we could know for sure. It's seasonal pranks now, but what if it does get worse?"

"What makes you say that?"

"Long experience in the city." Nick put a sympathetic paw on Judy's shoulder and smiled down at her. "Right? Like with Jamie?"

Judy nodded, her ears telegraphing reluctance. "Yeah. Would you believe this isn't the first time we've had to do something like this? This time it is mostly harmless, and that's good. We just want to make sure it stays that way."

So he wasn't the only one thinking about that. And as far as he was concerned, that just made his secret plans that much more important. They were both ready to see this all the way through, yes. But that didn't mean they had to let everything else they'd come out here to do fall by the wayside.

"You'd better go ask about reports, then," he said.

"Do we have time?"

"We do if you do that while I do this," Nick said. Yes, this might just work. He waved her toward the door. "Buck and I will get it loaded up, and I can come get you when we're done. Ask about the bridge, too."

Judy looked between them, but she nodded and turned to leave. Nick watched her until the door and its cheery little bell swung shut in her wake.

"Are you sure she's all right, Nick?" Margaret asked. She fretted with the artificial sweetener packets between her hooves. "She's supposed to be on vacation, isn't she? I mean, you both are."

"It's fine," he said, and made it a half-truth because it beat wrestling with the private concern just then: "This is the sort of thing we would volunteer for, back home, because it's nice and easy."

"Oh."

Buck had a second load of crates in his arms. "Is that your truck out front?"

"That's the one."

The crates clinked in Nick's arms. Margaret ducked ahead to get the door for them, and they quickly got the cargo stowed and secured in the back of the truck. Nick hoped it wouldn't matter if the wine chilled - it was cooling off already, blowing more thick clouds in from the east. The trip back to the farm was going to be downright cold.

"All set?" Buck asked. He leaned on the edge of the truck bed and looked approvingly at Nick's lash job.

"I think so, yeah," Nick said. "It's all been paid for, right?"

"Yep." He pointed a blunt thumb claw back into the shop. "Margaret's got you all sorted out. Thanks for doing this for her, by the way. The detective work. She's been real worried about it."

"And Judy makes two." Nick checked she was indeed out of earshot. "Before I leave, I wanted to ask - do you sell caramel, like for apples? Or could you get your paws on it? She's been talking about how she used to make it with her family."

"I don't think so," Buck said. "Not if I know our stocks. I can put some on special order, but that might take a couple days. It's pretty popular right now."

"That's what the guy at the candy store told me," Nick said. He gave his head a little shake to cover the disappointment. "Don't worry about it, then."

"You sure?" Buck asked. His brow knit. "I bet I can probably find some by tomorrow. I can pull some strings."

"He gave me something else to try first," Nick said, and patted his pocket. "But if that doesn't work, I'll come back."

"All right, suit yourself." Buck nodded and reached out to shake Nick's paw. "We'll be here if you need anything."

\---

The Sheriff's Office was inconclusive- no reports of mischief so far this season, from the town proper or from the river in particular. Aside from the occasional lost visitor or stranded farm truck, everyone had been heeding the warnings about steering clear of the broken-down bridge. Everyone except, presumably, their vandals.

So when they'd finished dinner, they started collecting what they'd need for their long night watching the bridge. Nick came back to their room to find Judy preparing for it like she would any other field op, piling a blanket and a first aid kit in their bag on the bed.

"Did you get the big thermos?"

"I did." Nick clicked his claws against the well-worn casing. "But your uncle Frank was still putting the finishing touches on the next batch. He told me to come back for it later."

"A couple hours, then." Judy read her notes. "At least we'll be fresh, just in case."

Her totally serious reflex gave Nick brief pause. They'd had to do that before - catching shut-eye in the break room before the Oak Street raid. They weren't chasing drug dealers this time, of course, but after today's false starts he suspected Judy still wouldn't sleep a wink without a little prompting.

He confirmed it when he got closer, when he held her still so he could press his nose against her ears. She was a bundle of energy. "Do you want some help?"

She laughed against him. "I know, I know."

"Just think like a kit again," Nick murmured against her forehead. "Stay in bed, or the Watchers will get you."

It made her shiver. She nodded.

"I'll go make sure they really don't need us to help out," Nick said.

"Mm." She cocked her head up at him. "I'm sure they can spare the two of us."

"Sharon will know for sure," Nick said. he let her go. "And I can check on the cider again. Don't wait up for me."

He shut the door as quietly as he could and ducked out of the dormitory hallways.

He hadn't lied. Sharon would be able to tell him if the family needed the paws - but barring some outstanding circumstances the answer would almost certainly be 'no.' Lucky for Nick, she would also know her way around the kitchen and the stovetops. He put the thermos in his other paw and reached into his thigh pocket for the packet of butterscotch.

Most of the burners and ovens were along the north wall of the kitchen. With so many big meals imminent, almost all of them were going at capacity - from the gleaming professional-grade gas ranges, to the big wood-burning hearth with the stockpot where the soup they'd helped collect ingredients for was simmering away. Nick could feel the air getting warmer as he crossed the bustling room.

He'd worried he might have to turn to his phone to find Sharon, but she was here, checking pots with a big wooden spoon in paw while one of her brothers rattled off directions from the recipe on his phone. She must have just come in from her shift at work - she still had a set of blue scrubs on. But she smiled when she saw him.

"Hi, Nick. I think Judy was off looking for the cider."

"I came back for it, since it wasn't quite ready the first time around," Nick said. "And if you had a minute, I wanted your help with some cooking, too."

She was sharp, all right. She closed the lid and looked him up and down. Her nose twitched - sort of like Judy's, but not quite. "All by yourself, huh?"

"It's a surprise. Judy said she hasn't had homemade caramel apples for years." He rattled the bag.

"Ah, say no more," Sharon said. She passed off her spoon to her brother, who rolled his eyes, and led the way.

And it was good that she was there. Nick would have had to fight for burner space, had she not talked yet another sibling into sharing a spot right on the end for twenty minutes. At his direction, she procured a thin, bowl-shaped pot, and a silicone spatula. She squinted at the butterscotch.

"I think mom used to have a drawer full of these by the sink," she said. "But they were never an ingredient, the were just hard candy. Ray said you could melt them down?"

"With nut cream and sugar, yeah."

"Okay." Sharon pointed him toward a bag further down the counter. "Sugar first. Get about half a cup."

They put it on the heat, which to Nick's surprise turned it caramel-colored all on its own, and then carefully stirred in the candies. They bubbled a bit, and did start to soften around the edges. Sharon nodded approvingly.

"We used to have to do this with straight sugar," she said, now standing on a little stool so she could see over the rim of the bowl. "It would take all day, because mom was picky about the consistency. We had to stir and stir, and it was too hot to even dip your paw in."

"Is this better, then?" Keeping the thick mixture from sticking was making his paw tired, now that she mentioned it.

"I guess we'll find out," she said. "Judy will love it either way, though." Her eyes twinkled. "She always does, you know."

Hearing that from someone else warmed Nick up. "As long as it takes her back."

"What is it?"

"Just something Margaret said at the store stuck with me," he admitted. "Finding out who tagged her patio isn't worth feeling like you're still at work. The way Judy's focused on chasing perps, I worry her whole break is going to go by before she knows it."

"When has she ever slowed down, though, right?" Sharon tilted a knowing ear, with a faint smile on her muzzle. "I don't think that drive of hers is ever going to just go away."

"You're probably right."

"What's bugging her this time? Maybe I can help."

So Nick caught her up on their progress so far - what they'd first learned from Margaret and Buck at The Grand; the evidence they'd found and weighed against their impromptu interviews; and the sting of a near-miss when they were reasonably certain where to look, but had missed their chance anyway.

"And a haunted bridge, too." Sharon said. "Did you see anything funny while you were down there?"

"Not even I could see much." Nick thought back. "And we didn't stick around. The wind makes it groan and creak."

"I went through there on a dare once as a kit," Sharon said. "I didn't see any Watchers, or anything, but I would not do that again. It's a lot longer than it seems, when you're in the dark inside."

"We'll be down there with the truck," Nick said. "And Judy's got a light, a nice bright one."

"You'll have to tell me if anyone does show up," she said. "I don't know any kits that would stick around. Winter, maybe."

"How's she doing, by the way?" She wasn't Sharon's kit, but like Judy she had a soft spot for their youngest sister. "She hasn't come to say hi this whole time."

"They were on a school trip to the mountains until a couple days ago, I think." Sharon rubbed her nose. "If I had to guess, she's probably putting together her corn maze raiding party somewhere in the halls. The Watchers don't scare her into bed anymore, you know. She told me yesterday she wanted to chase one down to see what they're made of."

"Maybe we should have her come along with us." Nick chuckled. "She doesn't sound like she'd be scared of the bridge."

"Oh, that'll just give her ideas," Sharon laughed. "If we-"

She stopped as the mixture in the pot began to hiss and sputter around the edges, like it was trying to boil despite its thickness. Nick's spoon stuck in place as he tried to stir it. Sharon reached over and clicked the burner off.

Nick got as close as he dared to the heat. It was thick and golden-brown like caramel ought to be, and certainly smelled sweet and appetizing. But the bubbles seemed to slow and freeze in place as the sugar began to harden and set up. It looked almost like peanut brittle now, instead of something they'd be able to dip apples in. His stomach sank.

"Nuts," Sharon muttered. "I was afraid of that."

"Not enough cream?" Nick guessed.

"No, we added plenty," Sharon said. "I think the base just wasn't as pure as it needed to be. Sugar is weird like that, when you heat it up." Her ears dropped, when she looked up and saw his face. "Sorry, Nick."

"Ray at the store warned me it might happen." And because he had, Nick was able to wave it away. Mostly.

"Yeah." Sharon was watching him, standing on her stool with the tilt to her head that had to be one hundred percent Hopps. She certainly saw right through to his disappointment, the same way Judy did. "I don't know if my sister ever tells you this, Nick, but you're a really good boyfriend."

The warmth in his chest came back, so sudden and unexpected that it threatened to crack into a stupid grin. He covered it with a theatrical sigh. "Probably best that she keeps it to herself," he said. "Worrying about her is enough; any more neuroses would really go to my head."

Sharon reached out and put a paw on his shoulder.

"If it helps, look at it this way," she said. "Is she happy? You'd know best."

It was a little strange, hearing that from the one who was probably Judy's closest sibling. And that was probably what gave it such weight, now that Nick stopped to really consider the question.

He put aside everything he could: The faint pressure to make the most of their time that always seemed to come with vacations, that had driven him to try this little experiment in the first place. The disappointment of setbacks and dead ends in a case they weren't obligated to take. When he looked past that all he was left with was the glint in Judy's eyes. That was what drove everything else. Yes, he didn't like when it faded. That was why he was always trying to draw it out.

But it was never gone for long.

"Yeah," he said. It was making him smile, too. _Dumb fox_ was right. He'd been too concerned with whether Judy was enjoying her time to realize that it was probably him who needed to take the step back instead, for both their sakes. "Yeah, she is."

Sharon beamed at him, when she saw him getting it. "Then you're golden. No matter how much sugar you burn."

The mass in the bowl was already cool enough to prod with a claw. It gave a bit, like the chewy taffy he'd seen in the candy store. "What should I do with this?"

"Just stick it in the dish tub with the rest," Sharon said, and indicated the washing-up sink in the corner, where a team of rabbits was busy at even this time of night, scrubbing pans and arranging plates in the commercial washing rack with effortless efficiency. "I doubt it's the first food experiment that dead-ended tonight anyway."

"Well, as long as I'm in good company," Nick said. He started gathering up their dishes, and this time that twinge that came with the failed attempt didn't seem to stick around as long. "Thanks, Sharon."

"Thank _you_ for looking out for my sister so well," she came back. "She's lucky to have someone who tries so hard to make nice things for her."

He savored that all the way back down the warren of hallways toward the dorms, and into the low-ceilinged bedroom. And he tried to make good on it right away. They might not have a special treat for tonight, but he could still make right now count, and he was sure they could get something good out of the time ahead, too. It was just a matter of perspective.

Judy blinked half-awake eyes up at him when he slipped into the bed and curled around her. His knees and the fur of his back chilled, where he was still just a little too big for the bedframe and even the biggest blankets. But it didn't bother his winter coat any, and the important part was that Judy was as snug as could be.

"Time is it?" she mumbled.

"Eleven, maybe?" He settled her sleepy protest with his nose before it could start, and wondered if she would smell the sugar on him. "I got sidetracked talking with Sharon."

She accepted that, and settled deeper under his chin. "'m not waking you up if you oversleep."

She would too, and they both knew it.


	4. Chapter 4

In the end, she didn't have to - but Nick still definitely had to work up the willpower to crawl out of bed and into the chilly night air. He let Judy sort out the last of their kit and went to collect the cider from the kitchen. By now it was done, and nice and strong for having simmered for a while. It helped him get the rest of the way to wakefulness, as they took the blue farm truck and bumped their way down the drive.

"We can set up right by the bridge," Judy spoke up as they approached town. "Unless you want to try somewhere else."

"Nope." It was the best place to start. All their evidence pointed there - and so they had better odds of seeing more progress down there, than they did of catching anyone in the act.

And tonight it was the best place Nick could think to haunt. The moon was just one day away from full, sitting over the horizon like a giant orange streetlamp. Even as they came to the edge of the pavement and started down into the river valley proper, its light made it through the trees strong enough to cast murky shadows.

And when Judy found a place to stop, with the truck backed up into a little hollow with a good view of the converging paths, the light was still strong enough for Nick's sensitive eyes to see by. It was a good position. They could see comings and goings, but anyone who did come or go would be nearly on top of them before they could see the faded blue paint of the hood peeking out of the treeline.

"I'm going to walk the area first." Judy kept her voice low, already all business. "In case the moon sets later."

Nick flattened his ears at the creak and snap of the old doors, but the noise seemed to get lost in the bare branches with unnatural speed. The only thing that intruded as they started their circuit was their feet crunching through the downed leaves, and the constant wind and rushing water.

And, of course, the faint noises of something heavy and hollow, just around the corner. Judy was peering intently at the ground, no doubt alert for more wrappers or papers that would show them they were in the right spot again, but Nick was looking up, so that this time he would be ready for the sight of the bridge.

Stubborn mist was catching the moonlight around its entrance, but as before that was as far as the light got. The only indication they had that there was something beyond the threshold was the moaning of the wind through exposed timbers. Beside him, Nick felt Judy tense and go cautious.

"I really wish we could see inside."

"Don't use your light," Nick cautioned. "We need to keep our night vision."

"And would it really do any good?" Judy shivered pleasantly and eased closer. "It didn't last time."

"When you talked to the Sheriff, he said it had been quiet down here, right?"

"Yes." Judy hugged the edge of the little road clearing. "But last year, and three years ago, there was at least one call." She paused, one ear turned behind her toward him, and waited for him to catch up. "And the records say there really was a drowning during a night crossing, a long time ago. A mountain lion and her kit were halfway over."

"No way." Nick swallowed. "On Harvest?"

"No, but does it matter?"

"It might to your uncle," Nick said. "Wonder if he knows?"

They crept closer, until they could feel the wind. There was a slab of plywood nailed to one of the uprights, Nick saw, daubed with a message: Closed for county maintenance. At least it wouldn't blow away this time.

Because whether by design or by accident, the covered structure seemed to accelerate the breeze that came up off the river. It rushed down the stretch and into their muzzles. Nick was having a hard time believing idle vandals - especially kits - would be ready to brave that darkness, or the eerie noises that reached out of it, or the supposed danger that lurked inside. Judy seemed to agree, if the way she was close enough to nestle against his tail was any indication.

But then she surprised him.

"I want to look around inside," she said.

Nick peered down at her wide eyes and attentive ears. "Now?"

"Can you think of a better time?" she asked.

"Midday in July?" he suggested. "Or at least with the truck's headlights."

"We can't take the truck," she said. "Vehicle weights are too much until it gets fixed." She raised her flashlight to send its beam down the passage. "But we should be okay to walk it."

Nick gave good odds that something about the bridge was supernatural. The darkness seemed to swallow them. Judy's light kept working, of course, but it only illuminated what she pointed it at - the broad floorboards, or the rusting metal collars at the base of each big upright, or a few of the crossbars that cut identical shadows over their heads and reminded Nick of strange angular ribs.

And the wind was focused in here, swaying the timbers under their paws and rattling against worn walls. It was like it didn't want them under its roof - or worse, it did.

The noise got sharper as they progressed, and Judy got closer. Twice she twisted an ear as an especially ominous creaking sounded behind or above them.

But in time they made it to what Nick estimated was the midway point, and with a sudden cold breeze in their faces saw exactly why the bridge was impassable.

At least two of the floorboards were missing, leaving a hole that stretched nearly all the way across the central lane of the bridge and was as wide as Judy was tall. Past the jagged edges where the base had splintered away, they could see the dark glint of the river rushing by, far below.

"The whole bottom fell out of it," Judy breathed. "It's just like the story."

Just like the story. Nick kept his grip on Judy's free paw and bent his knees, testing his weight just in case. It seemed solid enough by their railing, which was carved from dry pine with an extra lower layer of pawrails for smaller mammals.

"At least we know where the problem is," he said. "Imagine a small-scale car rolling over this. It might have gone all the way through."

Another rush of wind blew in, this time straight up through the maw in the ground. It was frigid with mist from the river that settled on Nick's muzzle and neck. He had to fight the urge to shake.

Worse, it rattled the entire bridge around them again - and amid the cacophony of creaking and groaning there was a stuttering _crack_ of released tension from below. Something big had shifted. An awful grinding floated up from the dark of the river, like bare branches shrieking against metal.

Nick wasn't sure who reached for who first.

 _"Okay."_ Judy edged back from the gap. "I really hope no one tries to get across this."

Reckless kits might, though. And that made it all the more important that they were in place to stop whoever might risk it. Nick was happy to do that from the relative safety of the truck.

And because they were double-timing back down the tunnel, toward the faint light from the moon outside, when Judy stopped abruptly right underneath the last arch he nearly ran into her. He put his paws on her shoulders and squeezed.

"What is it?"

"Look-" She pointed to the gravel wash at the edge of the road, where the leaves had mostly covered something thin and ghostly white in the moonlight. "Headphones."

It was surreal, but there they were - the ubiquitous white versions that came sized for all different mammals and ears. When she picked them up, they could see this pair would be for a mid-scale user like a rabbit.

"It has to be kits," Judy whispered. She grinned up at him, her concern over the damaged bridge apparently already suspended. "My parents hate these things."

"I hate those things, too," Nick pointed out. But he suspected she was right. And yet another piece of evidence suggested they were on the right track after all.

"They look almost brand new," Judy said. "So they were here recently enough. Maybe in the last couple nights."

"Well, if they're going to come back, we don't want to scare them off. Come on."

Nick led the way around the far edge of the circle, until they'd come back to the truck. They climbed back in and pulled the doors shut, and the noise and chill of the wind dropped mostly away. Judy rubbed the circulation back into her paws, and reached for her notebook to scribble new observations.

" _Who_ is getting firmer, but not _when_. None of our reported incidents have exact times." She caught his eye. "We could be here until morning."

"That would just be the worst, wouldn't it?" Nick asked. Between being out of the wind, and the cider in the bag, and the extra blanket he knew was behind the seat? "Downright _miserable_."

Half of it was just smart planning, just in case it did in fact end up useful. With what they'd seen so far, Nick worried it might be.

But the other half was the same feeling he'd felt on his way back to the room that night, the same private happiness he saw Judy sharing now. Now Nick was glad they were out here, chasing a cold lead in the dark. The farm ran on a fever pitch. Where else were they going to get the chance for such truly alone time?

So they sat in a stillness that was far more intimate than professional. It wasn't silent. The wind rushed over their hiding spot and moaned through the corner where the window in the back of the cab had never quite closed all the way anymore. Nick fiddled with the aftermarket CB on the dash, so its orange light cast a glow on their muzzles. They were still close enough to pick up the chatter of the chaperones back in the corn maze; now he turned it down so it was indistinct background noise they both knew so well from their job in the city.

Judy had her notebook and her map of town; she spread the latter out in the radio's faint light so they would both be able to see the lay of the land. There was the bridge, and the road they'd come in on. She had put little X marks on the Grand Cafe and the hardware store. They were each about the same distance from the crossing here.

"Is there anything on the other side of the river they might hit?" Nick asked.

"Just fields," Judy said. She tapped her paw on the even shading on the other side of the squiggly line that showed the river's track. "Really big ones. I checked the directory yesterday, to make sure it's all still the same names. The Windsor's farm has been here even longer than my family has. We used to go on hayrides out there during Harvest, before dad started up the corn maze."

"They have kits?"

"None that would do this," Judy said. "They work with my family, especially during Harvest. They'd know better." Her finger strayed over the bridge. "And they'd know not to risk going out over a broken crossing."

Nick squinted through the windshield, and back at the map to orient himself. "And what's this thing?"

"Another bridge." Judy squirmed, because he'd reached around to pull her closer while he pointed with his right paw. "Not a big one like this, though. I asked the Sheriff about it, but he said it's been quiet. Just normal traffic that got rerouted from this one."

He heard her breath catch, when his teeth closed at the base of her ear. She scooted further onto his lap.

"We're supposed to be watching."

"I am watching," Nick said around his prize. He went on making sure she was all right from their brush with the dark. "I'm just multitasking while I do it."

"If we miss something important, I'm blaming you," she whispered. But then she was the one pressing back against him each time he looked down from the windshield to try something new. "And what if I fall asleep?"

"Mm." Nick settled them deeper in the seat and nodded out the window into the dark forest. "Keep us awake, then. Tell me the story about the haunted MacAllan bridge. The whole thing."

"The ghost story, or the real thing?" she asked.

"There's a difference?"

"A little bit," Judy said. "The thing they have in common is that someone died. The Sheriff showed me the article: a puma and her kit were crossing the bridge late one night just after Harvest started. There must have been a storm just before, because the records show the water was high and moving fast."

"With you so far."

"Nobody knows for sure how it happened, but the kit was lagging behind and either fell off the bridge or, more likely, fell straight through the floor." Judy swallowed. "Right into the current, and into the rapids downstream."

"Oh, no."

"The legend says she stayed at the river all night calling for him," Judy said. "And, well. You remember the fire at Acorn Heights?"

Nick rumbled his apprehension. The mere mention of that particular case was enough to conjure up the blown-out windows of the tiny apartments in his mind's eye, and the unmistakable acrid tang of something burning that Nick had done his best to forget. But there was no forgetting the sound of the survivor they'd had to confront, when he'd seen his wife getting carried out of the building.

"They spent all night trying to calm her down," Judy said. She shifted in his lap; obviously she was as uncomfortable with the recollection as he was. "It happened at the police station here, but we always heard that she stayed right at the bank, just calling and calling..."

The night wind gusted again, hard enough to make the truck itself creak subtly on its old suspension. Something altogether more ominous drifted out of the blackness from the vicinity of the bridge. Nick drew his knees up and pushed his muzzle back down where it belonged. They could both use a reality check right now. "And I'm guessing if you listen hard enough out there, you can hear her?" The metal shrieking they'd heard wasn't unlike a mountain lion's cry...

"Depends on which version of the story Uncle Gerry is telling," Judy said. "None of us ever wanted to check, though."

"And now I wouldn't, either."

"None of us thought it was true, though." She had her paws wrapped tight around his fingers. "Not like this. This makes it worse. It's broken down again, and everything we have shows kits are probably poking around on it."

"We're here to stop that, if they are," Nick reminded her.

Judy's ears were turning, catching things only she could hear. "Yeah."

Nick fell silent again, lending his night eyes to her sensitive hearing while they waited for something - anything - to happen. But they could well have been the only ones for miles, just them in their little truck.

"I'm sorry it's bugging you," Judy eventually said in a small voice. "I keep making it serious."

"Well, a dangerous bridge is a dangerous bridge." Nick applied delicate claws. "And I'm not bugged."

"Yes you are," she said. "You were acting funny all through dinner, and earlier at the store..."

Oh. "If anyone needs to apologize for that, it's me," Nick said. It must have been worse than even he realized, if she'd noticed after all. "How bad was it?"

"No worse than usual. I just saw how you double-checked your kit while I was checking mine. Making sure we had extra blankets and cookies, and the cider."

"That's just me, though, isn't it?" Nick quoted. He nosed her. "Full disclosure: I wasn't worried about trouble. I just wanted to make tonight special."

He could feel her concern fade as she moved against his throat, as surely as he had flipped a switch, and stopped himself before he could wonder if she even recognized it. It wasn't important right now.

"Oh."

"In my defense, it's a lot of work making all of these romantic gestures look so casually effortless. This is plan, um-" he counted on his free fingers. "D. or maybe C."

She chuckled, low. "You could have just said it was in case another kit needed it, Slick."

"Well-" he jerked his muzzle out the windshield. "You saw it. It's that, too."

"I won't wreck your reputation."

"Too late," Nick said. "I burned that on the stove earlier tonight."

"Oh, no." Her claws prickled. "Doing what?"

"See, now _that's_ still a surprise." He smiled at her wide eyes. "But Sharon helped me get my head on right. It'll wait until we've seen this through."

As if the dark forest outside had heard him, the strongest gust of wind yet buffeted their perch, rocking the truck and making the hoses and tie-down rope in the bed rattle against their hooks. Nick pulled Judy closer in his lap against the onslaught just because he could, and together they waited it out and listened to it spend its fury against the bridge. He could feel her heartbeat in her ears, against his cheek.

It must have been a night just like this one, he thought, and indulged in the little shiver. The wind would have been howling against the rattly old siding just like this, and the naked trees would have shaken the same way. If he concentrated, he swore he could even hear young voices...

\---

Only when Judy keyed up in his lap herself did he realize that wasn't just his imagination getting away from him. There were kits down here.

And as soon as they leaned forward to squint through the dark, Nick could see them - two and now three, running one at a time as fast as they could out of the inky blackness of the bridge passage.

"It's them!" Judy scrambled to pull the map out of the way and untangle them from the blanket they'd cuddled up under. "What were they doing inside? Oh, _no..._ "

They were close enough to see clearly now: a rabbit, a badger, and a slim mustelid, maybe a ferret, with something in their paws- "I think you're right. Look at that. What else would they need fresh rolls of TP for?"

"Finally." Judy couldn't sit still. "Okay. Okay. You hit the lights, and I'll go first. We need to stop them here."

The kits were all breathing hard as they drew closer, looking relieved - but also more than a little nervous. Nick didn't reach all the way for the headlight controls. "Are you sure about the lights? They seem scared enough, look..."

But Judy was already kicking her passenger side door open with a harsh metallic squeak. All four of the young mammals shrieked or jumped and twisted to look - and then jumped again as Nick flicked the lights on.

The wind rushed in, looking for the gaps in his jacket, and Nick was glad for his thick winter fur. The bridge, which was now somehow even darker in the harsh yellow arc of the headlights, creaked as if settling in to watch the coming confrontation.

"What are you kits doing all alone down here?" Judy was in the lead, her brisk officer's manner firmly in place even though she wasn't on duty. She gave him a little relieved look. It didn't appear that any of them were hurt for their dangerous trespassing. "The city closed the bridge last week. It's not safe right now. Didn't you see the hole?"

It had the desired effect, too. The ferret shifted and hid the white rolls of paper he carried behind his back, and the rabbit in the lead twisted his ears and stammered. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. Or another ghost.

"We- uh, we were just exploring..."

He was adolescent, almost a teenager. There was something oddly familiar about his tone, and his eartips, and the pattern of brown fur on his muzzle. Nick tilted his head and moved sideways so he wasn't casting a shadow over them. And Judy-

Judy's careful demeanor gave way to something entirely different. She flicked her ears around so quickly Nick could hear them dragging at the air, and then she did something he never would have expected from her, in or out of uniform.

She darted forward, fast as the wind through the trees around them, and reached out to seize the smaller rabbit by the base of his ear in a practiced paw. He yelped.

 _"Robert Godfrey Anderson III Hopps,"_ she snapped. She twisted her grip tighter, pulling him around in to the wash of the headlights and making him sink to one knee. "Oh, I can't  _believe_ this. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"We're just- _ow!_ Judy, quit it! We're just looking around the bridge!"

 _"With rolls of toilet paper?"_ She demanded. She pulled his head around and forced him to look at his companion. With the game up, or perhaps because he saw the furious treatment Robert was getting, the ferret wasn't trying to hide his tools of mischief anymore. "You and I both know there's only one reason to have that out here right now."

"Okay, technically, there's two good reasons-" His voice cracked and grew shrill, as Judy tightened her grip. " _Ow! Ow!_ Okay! I'm sorry, all right?"

Judy was breathing hard, as angry as Nick had ever seen her and embarrassed, to boot, when she glanced up at him. She let the other rabbit go. "It's not me you've got to apologize to."

"What, are you going to arrest us?"

"Oh, you're only going to wish I had," Judy said. 

The blood drained from Robert's ears. Nick put it together and had to fight down a laugh that really wouldn't have sent the right message. He should have known.

"You wouldn't dare," Robert breathed.

"No?" Judy asked. "You know the bridge is off limits. And you know the rules about mischief. Mom tells us every year." She turned to Nick. He hadn't been quite able to tell how she was playing this. Her little brother made it personal, and her sudden anger was genuine. But right now the twist to her ear still said _play along._ "We've got all sorts of evidence to give her."

Nick nodded. "Like tools of the trade," he said, and waved at the white rolls on the ground.

"And candy wrappers from the taffy at the store," Judy said. The badger shifted on uncomfortable paws and Nick carefully breathed out. It was nice to have that one confirmed for them, after all.

"Oh." Judy dug in her thigh pocket and held up the tangled headphones. "And we found these in the gutter by the bridge. I seem to remember you were missing a pair a couple nights ago?"

She had him dead to rights, and his ears showed that he knew it. But Robert still tried.

"Sure, we were down here on Friday. But it wasn't to do any of- that."

"Really?" Judy asked. "It's been dead quiet around here after about eleven for the last three nights. We would know; we thought we were the only ones alive in town. Except-" She turned to Nick again, and started to pace. "How many acts of petty seasonal vandalism does that make this weekend?"

"Two, if you do count the hardware store and don't count the littering," he said, and jerked a thumb back toward the path that led up toward the park. "And three, if you count-"

"We didn't tag the hardware store!" Robert protested. "That one was someone else-"

Judy showed teeth as fierce as any predator's. Her brother clicked his mouth closed, but the damage was done.

"And three, you said?" She asked Nick. "If you count the pumpkin?"

"If you count the pumpkin," he confirmed. Robert had clammed up, looking positively queasy at the prospect of maternal punishment, but his badger friend was now carefully inspecting the dirt between her feet. Someone had a really guilty conscience.

Nick swept his tail wide, so it would brush ever so slightly against the back of Judy's legs. The kits seemed to be getting the point. They'd had their scare.

Her ear twitched again. _Message received._

 _"Years,"_ she sighed. "Twenty-three years I was here, and it was never Hopps kits causing trouble for the neighbors. Do you know how proud mom and dad were of that?"

"Don't tell her," Robert begged again. "We'll fix it. I'll fix it, I just-"

The wind crested again, sending leaves skittering around their ankles and blowing against Nick's tail. Behind the kits, something rattled out of the dark.

"Come on, all of you get in the back and hold on." Judy turned away from the bridge and led the way again, shaking her head in disgust so hard her ears swayed. We're going home."

\---

When they arrived through the rows of glowing pumpkins on the drive, back in the warm wash of light spilling from the garage and the burrow's front windows, Judy charged him with making sure Robert and the others stayed put while she got advance word inside.

There were plenty of other volunteers, too. Word got around fast, among the chaperones and older siblings that were out by the maze or working in the garages. Nick didn't have to do much but look on. The disapproval from passing siblings was doing a better job of putting them in their place than he though he ever would.

And sure enough, all Judy had to do when she marched back out alone was stop at the back bumper and point.

"Leave your things in the truck."

The kits slunk over the sides of the bed and trooped inside, ears and tails low, to whatever awful fate awaited them amid the laughter and sweet scents of the kitchen.

She leaned into the bed to gather the rolls of paper and bag of candy they'd left into a little pile, and turned an ear for Nick when he came up behind her to help.

"Nice work, Carrots."

"I never thought-" She huffed a little breath and climbed into the bed proper so she could turn and stand at muzzle height with him. "I never thought I would have to take in a Hopps for this sort of thing."

Her ears were still down, warm under his paws when he reached out to pull her closer. Everyone had seen them arrive, and most of them knew what they'd been up to now. Nick felt comfortable getting through to her right here, in the chilly wind in front of family and friends.

"But now it's done," Nick said. "And we got to them before anything went bad."

"Now it's done." She nodded against his throat. She was still almost shaking - with spooled-out adrenaline, with anger, maybe with the cold. Nick set about chasing the last of it away with firm paws.

"And I bet Robert will think twice about mischief next time," he said. "Right?"

"I don't know," Judy admitted. "If he and his friends haven't _evaporated_ when Mom is done with them, everyone else is going to be lining up to give them a piece of their mind. They knew the rules."

"And the risks of falling in the river."

Judy's sigh clouded around their muzzles. "And the risks of falling in the river, yeah." She dug her claws against his jacket and looked up at him. "Did you ever do anything this boneheaded and reckless?"

He eyed her, and tried to hold the smile back. He could feel his ears moving. "You sure you want me to answer that right now?"

That got it. She slumped, and her laugh was closer to a groan. "Oh, no."

"Yeah, I've got some ghost stories, too," he said, and pulled her close again. "They can wait, though."


	5. Chapter 5

Two days later, they were back in town to follow up on the report they'd called in to the Sheriff about the worsening damage to the bridge - and to deliver a special volunteer crew at The Grand.

"Well," Margaret whispered in the corner, "I guess this is a good way to make sure we're ready for the first week of visitors."

They watched the bustle of early customers, who themselves were watching bemused at the trio of young mammals who were scrubbing the shop clean, top to bottom. Robert's friends were responsible for the floors over by the bookcases, with both a wet and a dry mop between them. Robert himself had been charged with washing out all of the bar sinks and gutters, and shining it with pungent cleaner until the dark wood reflected the hanging lights. And that was for a start.

"It's less punishment than they deserve," Judy muttered. "You can have them all week, for whatever work you need done."

"Are you sure?" Margaret blinked her big eyes. "Won't they miss most of your parties?"

"That's the point," Nick said. He watched Buck lean in the front door with a bucket full of pumpkin guts, and beckon to the badger. He was almost done carving up the new pumpkin, it looked like, and the Hopps grew them prize-winningly large.

Judy nodded along. "And nothing you can think up for them would be near as bad as what they've already had to do at home. My parents had them tilling over a whole field with paw tools this morning."

"Goodness."

"They're fixing what they made a mess of." Judy shrugged. She had to dredge up the smile. "It's a start. And hopefully it means your problems will stop."

They still didn't know who else was out there causing trouble. Nick had played good cop to Judy's brief interrogation the night they'd come back from the bridge, and now they were pretty sure Robert and his friends didn't know, either. They couldn't even be sure who had copycatted who.

"I think they have," Margaret said. "Yesterday was quiet. It was just trick-or-treaters, and the first night of the potluck in the park."

"If they don't, though-" Judy twisted an ear and glanced at Nick. "You can always call us back down here."

"I would never," Margaret promised. "You've done so much for us already. You deserve to be with your family now." She brightened. "In fact, Judy, why don't you come back and pick out something nice to take back with you? We just got all the themed pastries in."

"Oh, I couldn't," Judy said. "We have so much food already."

But Margaret insisted, so Judy gave Nick a _wait-right-there_ look and followed into the back room.

Not long after, the badger trundled by with an overlarge bucket of fragrant pumpkin rind. Buck was with him, pointing out the door into the alley were the dumpsters were and wiping a large knife clean on a towel in his apron pocket. He leaned on the bar and smiled down at Nick.

"Margaret didn't take no for an answer, huh?"

Nick waved it away. "I'm sure someone at the farm will eat whatever she finds."

"Well, and she deserves it," Buck said. "You both do. In fact-" he eyed the closed kitchen door and dug in another pocket, to produce a mason jar filled with individually wrapped cubes. "You'd best take this with you, too."

They were creamed caramels, bearing an elegant tag on the jar from one of the nearby farms. Nick took them from Buck's massive paw automatically.

So that was what that felt like. In the last days' whirlwind of intrigue and risk, Nick had assumed his special plans would just have to wait until the weren't saving the day again. He was certainly used to it. He'd made his peace with it, and planned to make the best of it. Now the best was going to be even better.

"Came in just before you did this morning." Buck winked. "Think those'll work? Anna at the farm there said these were the popular ones for desserts."

"They should," Nick said. "Thanks, Buck."

"Ah, thank you and Judy. Margaret will feel better about Harvest customers now that everything's cleaned up." He jerked a thumb at where Robert's ferret friend was wrestling with the shelves for the window displays. "I will, too. We couldn't have done that in time without the extra help."

\---

Word came back to them, because Judy had asked the Sheriff to keep them in the loop: Deputies were going to post at either end of the bridge, to close it to all traffic until the town finished its repairs.

Robert came back to the farm in time for sundown. He and his friends looked appropriately exhausted with what had been a hard day's work to prepare for Harvest festivities in the town center. Bonnie saw that they got full helpings of the dinner spread - and then assigned them to wash a few more dishes for good measure.

And Judy had finally relaxed the way he'd hoped to see all this time, now that the work they'd assumed was as complete as they could make it. Now they were leaning on the railings of the observation platform at the center of the maze, oversize soup mugs in paw, with nothing to do but watch the slow sinking of the sun behind the clouds that huddled to the west.

There was the surprise, too, but Nick was leaving that safely wrapped in its basket for now. They'd get to it soon enough.

"I didn't think we'd be the only ones out here," he said.

Judy turned to smile. "Are you complaining?"

"Not at all." He reached out and pulled her closer. "I just thought Winter would be leading the charge through here already."

"I'm sure she'll be along as soon as it gets dark enough." Judy clinked the spoon in her mug. "But Sharon said she was assembling a search party on the first haunted hayride tonight."

"Not for missing mammals, I hope."

"Uh-uh," she said around her spoon. "She's put the finishing touches on a cage to go after one of the Watchers with."

_A cage for a ghost_ , Nick thought. But if there was anyone who could make that work, it was Winter.

"Do you want to go with them?" he asked. That didn't sound so bad. The setup in the basket would be reasonably portable. And he'd seen the big haywagon; they would be able to arrange a little nook in the bales to keep everything safe and cozy.

But Judy shook her head. "Maze first," she said. "I told dad we'd watch for the first bunch of kits and make sure they got through okay."

Nick got closer, so he could pull her under his chin. The edge of her ear was warm against his nose. It made her jump.

"You _cop_ ," he murmured. "You okay?"

"I'm okay," she said, and leaned back against him. "Really. I'm still steamed at Robert, but Margaret is right. We stopped what we could."

And now Nick knew he didn't have to push it, even if she hadn't been responding to more than just his questions. Now he could take the time to make the rest of their night special - without anything else getting in the way.

So when they'd finished their soup, he collected her mug and traded it it for a couple of sharpened bamboo skewers. Judy looked on with curiosity, and then an affected suspicion. She knew he was up to something.

"Marshmallows?" she asked.

"What, to roast over one of the jack-o-lantern lights?" Nick considered. "That's not a terrible idea, actually."

She smiled, maybe at the absurdity of sticking a marshmallow inside one of the carved pumpkins.

"Hey, we'd make it work. Even if we had to take turns." He held up the jar with the apples for her, a green smith variety that were now cut into chunks. "But this is better, I think."

Sharon had helped with this, too, not that he'd needed it much. The caramel had melted under the lowest of heats, perfectly thick and smooth compared to Nick's earlier attempt. But she'd been the one to suggest the special insulated ramekin, and that was what let them take it further afield than the kitchen table. It was warm in his paws.

Judy's eyes lit, and that kindled a warmth in Nick's chest that had nothing to do with scarves, or hot soup. "Where did you get this?"

"Did some favors for a deer and a bear down at the store," Nick said. He sat them down in the shelter of the bales, so she was in his lap and the breeze lost its chill and carried the rich scent of candle-warmed jack-o-lanterns to their noses instead. "Apparently this whole town sells out of the right caramels otherwise."

She laughed against him. "Oh. This was what you were busy with all this time."

"I'd feed you the first slice, but that would be over the top." Nick nudged her. "Go on."

Just watching her excitement was as sweet as any dessert could be. Judy swirled her apple in the caramel and had to catch the long string of sugar it pulled out with her finger.

"Good?"

Her eyes were closed, but her ear twitched for him. "Just try it," she mumbled.

Now _that_ was indulgent. The caramel was smooth and hot and had just a touch of sea-salt tang to go with the sour crunch of the apple.

"We used to have the whole thing on the stick at once," Judy said. She dipped another piece. "But I think this is better. It's like a fondue."

"Because you get more sugar," Nick guessed.

"Don't crash on me." She tilted her head back so she could kiss him wide awake. "We have too much fun left tonight."

Nick felt his tongue lolling. "Not on your life."

The end of dusk was an unofficial signal of sorts. Now the brightest light came from the soft glow of the pumpkin lanterns and candles, and from the brief glimpses of cooler flashlights between the cornstalks as kits started into the maze. From here Nick and Judy could watch their steady progress through the twists and turns - occasionally a light would vanish in the dark leaves, only to pop up somewhere closer. Judy's ears would turn in his lap at every new shout of surprise or fright, but none of them seemed to be genuine fear, so she stayed where she was.

And Nick was just happy to see her happy, to see her doing something she so loved.

Sure enough, Winter was first to arrive in the center checkpoint, with Auburn and a whole gaggle of excited kits in tow. Judy waved down to them as they passed.

"That's even faster than last year," she said as they got to their feet, so only Nick could hear. "The field team needs to make the route harder again."

Nick helped her make their dishes safe in the basket before the climbed down off the platform. He kept their cider thermos, just in case. "How many dead ends is it up to now?"

"I'm sure there are dozens," Judy said. She turned in place, to take in the five or six paths in the corn that stood in evidence. There was only one official way in or out - and each path had branches that they couldn't see from here. "Why? Afraid of getting lost?"

"Not at all." Nick followed her lead into the maze. The leaves pressed in, and the sky hung heavy and dark overhead, and mist danced between the stalks. It was all the excuse he needed to catch her eye, and reach down and keep her paw safe in his. "Getting lost is my favorite part."


End file.
